


In The Shadow of the Valley

by nocturnalboys



Series: Antedeluvian [1]
Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Cults, M/M, Magic, Post-Apocalypse, Trans Male Characters, mythological realism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 16:06:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12585580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nocturnalboys/pseuds/nocturnalboys
Summary: It's been too long since Hakuryuu thought about home, but the paranoia is still with him. All it takes is one visit from his past and the ghost of his family legacy to reawaken his longing for revenge... and perhaps a little extra.





	In The Shadow of the Valley

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all I cannot excuse myself for this haha I'm a menace I promise I'll update AP soon!! I'm gonna be working on it for nanowrimo so that'll guarantee and update it's just... this story had to come out, yk? I hope you enjoy it anyhow :,)

_Yea, though I may walk_  
_Through the valley of the shadow_  
_Of death_  
_I fear no evil_  
_Cause I’m the evilest son of a bitch_

In a supernatural silence, Hakuryuu woke from an almost dreamless sleep. It wasn’t usually this quiet in the morning. He’d gotten used to sleeping through the cacophony of birds and insects that woke before him, but that was an everyday occurrence. Silence, especially this complete, smothering quiet, was a thing to be wary of.

Knowing better than to sit up, Hakuryuu kept still, his eyes closed, listening hard. For a moment or two the silence continued, but as he strained to hear, a new sound arose. Scratching, scuffling noises, filtering through the stagnant, dust-mote filled air of the cabin bedroom. It could well be a raccoon, which were very strong. Who was to say one of them hadn’t prized off his front door and hurried inside to plunder from him? Ever so slowly, Hakuryuu inched his hand up, brushing the knife tucked inside the strap around his thigh. Never before had he needed a weapon as soon as he woke up, but there was a first time for everything.

Depending on whether the thieving animal looked rabid or not, he would need to defend himself somehow. Or, in a best-case scenario, he could just shoo the thing away and go about his morning. Like ripping off a bandaid, Hakuryuu opened his eyes wide, taking in the sight of his room almost as usual. 

The cobwebs on the ceiling remained, and so did the bucket in the corner. The sheet of flypaper by his wobbly desk flapped mournfully in the breeze that leaked from a thin sheet of plastic tacked over a broken window. Pale yellow light washed over the floor, the threadbare rug, the small wood stove. But the door was open, the muddy prints of bare feet dotting their way into the cabin. Crouched near Hakuryuu’s desk was a person he had never seen before, staring at him seemingly in anticipation.

Hakuryuu shot up in alarm, drawing his knife, his arm jerking towards the figure. “Who are you and why the fuck are you in my house?” He rasped, his voice still heavy with sleep.

The stranger put his hands up, black eyebrows arching and impossibly, a smug smile working its way onto his face. “I am gonna be totally honest here, I was gonna steal from you, and if I had I wouldn’t be here. But you’re interesting. Got an interesting face. You just don’t steal from interesting people, you know?” 

Deeply unsettled, Hakuryuu squinted at him, his mouth quirking into a grimace. “You don’t watch them while they sleep either. And you didn’t answer my first question. And am I supposed to thank you for not stealing from me?” His mind retreated just enough from panic to take in the details of the intruder. He was disgustingly filthy, but under the grime Hakuryuu could see loops of jewlery glinting. His nose, eyebrows and ears were pierced, although some of the holes had been torn and were scabbed over. Curling up his midsection was something like a bruise, hidden beneath a smear of dirt. Most arresting were his eyes; concentric, ringed and deep, like pits of crimson clay. Did he have two or three irises, or was that just Hakuryuu’s surprise getting the better of his vision?

“You can call me Judal. And duh, I was honest about it wasn’t I?” The word slipped from his mouth sounding like a spell, a phrase you only uttered in sanctity, in dark places. 

With a shiver, Hakuryuu recalled that he was shirtless, armed only with a glorified letter opener, and completely alone with a man who admitted to having almost stolen from him and watching him while he slept. “What do you want now if you don’t want my shit? If you’re done you can leave, you tracked mud,” he gestured wildly with the knifepoint, “all over my floor. Well?”

Judal laughed, and his teeth were strangely perfect, strangely white and clean and bleached. “Like I said, you’re interesting! I want your story. No one is born just looking like you do. I’m low on entertainment. Tell me your story and I’ll go.”

“And what if I don’t fucking feel like it?” Hakuryuu spat, the waters of aggression rising within him.

“Then I’ll be sticking ‘round until you do. No where else to go. No where to be. All the time in the world,” Judal stood, his body unfolding like a Jacob’s ladder of joints. 

It was true. They did have all the time, all of the meaningless time anyone could ever wish for. The world was over, but this… _after_? It went on. 

***

No one knew what really happened. There were theories, of course, but Hakuryuu had long ago moved past wanting to hear them. He knew as well as anyone that countries had expiration dates, and the tumblers of ill fate were always in motion, waiting to send a colossus to its knees. It should have been no surprise to anyone that someday, the earth itself would wipe clean like a hard drive with a magnet stuck to it. 

He himself had only been six when the Thing happened, whatever first domino had fallen. Whether starting from scratch was good or bad, this was what life had become, and he didn’t know another. And he didn’t really care why it had become what it was, only that he could survive in it. 

For several years Hakuryuu lived in relative peace. The cities, the places where the population was dense, and still was by the current standards, were no longer an option for him. At fifteen, he’d taken the first chance he had to make a run for it, and that was that, or should have been. Still thoughts plagued him, of what he’d left behind. Or of what it had become. 

It was a terrifying, harrowing thing to be alone and wandering in the world now. If it was dangerous before, it was even more so after. Hakuryuu, barely a teen himself, faced the wilderness alone and he could not- would not- live alone out there any more than he would return to what used to be his home. So he did what any young person would when feeling threatened; he joined a cult. 

The Order of the Verdant Lords welcomed new members all the time, and even if they worshipped what was essentially a crude idol, it was very easy to believe in its power. Or at least pretend to believe in its power. Hakuryuu knew there was no deity in the abandoned campground, but he did appreciate the cultists’ talent for gardening. Sure, they did strange dances, wore masks, even left offerings for a literal inanimate object, but as long as Hakuryuu smiled and nodded along with them, he would stay alive, at peace, and pretty damn well taken care of. 

For all their fanaticism, their intelligence wasn’t lost to them yet, either. In exchange for being put in charge of his own personal quadrant of garden space, one of the cultists, a doctor in his so-called past life, agreed to give Hakuryuu the surgical attention that would have cost him upwards of ten thousand dollars, maybe even more, from a practicing surgeon in what was vaguely known as ‘civilization’. He was thankful for the cultists. Grateful, even. 

That wasn’t even touching on his missing arm. Or the cherry-red ripple of scar tissue crawling over his body, a rough yet subtle topography of bumps and dips and tears, webbed places where he’d healed poorly.

He decided not to tell Judal any of these things. “If you want my story,” he huffed, exasperated, you could’ve waited for my goddamn autobiography like everybody else. Now please get out of my house.” He pointed his knife at the door, in case he needed to make it any clearer just how unwelcome the stranger was. 

Judal sighed, his voice growing whiny, like a spoiled child’s. “Please? Pleeeaasse? Come on, this is mean, I should’ve stolen from you!”

“Get! Out!” Hakuryuu snapped, and at last the intruder turned, reluctantly dragging his feet as he walked towards the door, his long, snarled braid of black hair swinging behind him. Getting out of bed, Hakuryuu stumbled to the door of his room, slamming it shut. He really should have a lock, right? He never wanted to repeat that again. Slipping his knife back where it belonged, Hakuryuu tugged on a pair of beaten grey pants and a wrinkled, faded flannel shirt. Once his heart rate had gone down and he’d gotten some productive pacing done, he tied his hair in a loose bun at the nape of his neck with a loop of twine. 

There was still something wrong. The thought hit him just as he was retrieving his shoes from beneath the bed. Outside, it was morning, and yet there was still silence, as though the forest around had been knocked down overnight. But that couldn’t have happened, because Hakuryuu could see the trees clearly through his only unbroken window. He wasn’t cold, but a chill wracked him to the bone. Step by step, one at a time, Hakuryuu opened the door to his room, walked down the dim hall, and emerged into sunlight. 

He could see the other cabins, the overgrown minigolf course, and the remnants of larger buildings circled around. Near the open kitchen, which took up the space of a wide field, people were milling around eating breakfast, and though they were distance, nothing looked off about them at all. It was a normal day, all except (of course he was still there, of course he didn’t have the good riddance to actually leave altogether and let Hakuryuu alone) Judal.

“I did what you asked! I’m not technically inside the house anymore!” He protested, the moment Hakuryuu’s gaze fell back on him. “See? I’m one hundred per cent out-fucking-side.”

Hakuryuu groaned, looking upwards into the branches of a pine tree. “I should have been more specific. What I meant was ‘please go away and stop bothering me’. Is that one more clear?”

Judal was silent for a few moments before shrugging. “Okay, okay, fine. Really, this time I’ll go, no tricks. May your soul take its rightful course and all of that…” He trailed off, waving lazily with one hand, and Hakuryuu's blood ran cold. 

“It’s ‘may your soul reach its rightful place in shadow,’ actually.” He blurted, his shock loosening his tongue. “Wait, stop! Where did you learn that?” 

Judal turned, rolling his eyes. “Holy shit, make up your mind, do you want me to leave or do you want me to wait or do you want me to stay? What’s the big fuckin idea anyway, isn’t that just a thing people say?”

It was not, actually, just a thing people said.

“Whatever you want to believe.” Hakuryuu felt displaced, his soul overlapping with his body but hanging partially out onto the grass. “Did someone send you here?” His voice cracked, reaching him as though from a very deep pit. “Do you know who I am?”

“Well, see, that was the point? Of asking you about yourself? I don’t actually know who you are?” Judal intoned, wrinkling his nose. 

His mind going blank with fear, Hakuryuu barely managed to restrain himself from leaping at the man and sending them both tumbling down the hill. “You. Stay. Here.” He said sharply, turning and making his way towards the kitchen. 

Every once in awhile, someone new would join up, and Hakuryuu was always foolish enough to ask for news. It was masochistic, in a way. He would never, ever return to where he’d come from, but knowing what the situation was gave him a sense of attachment, an umbilicus of dread and strange satisfaction. With the last few initiates, he’d held off on the questioning, but maybe that had been a mistake. What Hakuryuu knew about his home was this:

One day, a woman had an idea. What if, just, what if the apocalypse was actually supposed to kill everyone, every single thing on earth, and by violating that obvious natural destiny, all current life was an abomination? This idea really took off. What had one day been just the woman, her children, and her husband, became in several years a force of perhaps five hundred. Then, exponential growth; five hundred to two thousand. To them, death was the answer, and it had been narrowly avoided, wrongfully so. In time they came to worship it, the nameless thing, the unwinding mystery that had so suddenly ended the old world. 

The woman had been Hakuryuu’s own mother, and from that destiny, grinding himself down into ashes and prostrating before his own eventual grave, he ran. 

The news about her group was never dull. It still existed, still gathered members, including, he had heard, a terrifying and enigmatic priest, an avatar of apocalyptic power manifested on earth, in human form. That part scared him the least, because of course it wasn’t true; like the idol of the plant cultists, a human being was no more powerful than nature intended it to be.

Somehow, though, the thought never occurred to him that his mother might want him back. Might send someone after him, to drag him back to her embrace. No, maybe she just wanted him dead, and sent someone to bring back part of him as proof. His head, maybe, or his heart. His mother did have an affinity for hearts.

Not taking a plate of his own, Hakuryuu sat down hard at a table of newcomers, the impact clearly startling them as he landed on the bench. “I have a question. It’s important. Life or death, even.” He intoned grimly, looking each of the initiates in the eye, holding their gaze long enough to be sure he had their attention. “What do you know about the eight-pointed star?” He would not speak the real name of their organization. It felt like a taboo, as though by saying it he would literally drag his mother across hills and rivers and valleys towards him. 

***

It took far too long to wring anything out of the initiates. Clearly, they had not wanted to talk about the topic at hand, but Hakuryuu pressed, and he found out one thing; their mysterious priest had vanished. The poster child of their organization, probably hand-reared into his position, had suddenly and untraceably disappeared, and the group was in complete turmoil without him. There was no news of Gyokuen Ren sending an assassin after her lost child, however. While it warmed his heart to know the eight-pointed star was in disarray, the radio silence was also disturbing. It did, however, give him a tentative reason not to ambush Judal and do away with him immediately. Maybe the customary farewell of his mother’s death worship club was just so catchy it spread to the civilians. 

Judal didn’t seem the best put together, anyhow, Hakuryuu thought, walking back up the slope to his cabin. Or even that could be an act, a smoke-screen of eccentric behaviour to disguise his real intentions. 

The real logic behind his choice not to strike Judal preemptively bit at Hakuryuu much deeper. Judal could be someone just like him, another escapee, dazed and shocked by his own freedom. Surely, after his own escape, Hakuryuu had trouble washing and keeping himself clean. If the same was true for Judal, he could not play arbiter now, to kill a free man after he’d come so far. 

Although, he promised himself, if Judal made one wrong move he would find himself impaled on the spot. 

Judal was, shockingly, exactly where Hakuryuu left him, tracing strange shapes in the dirt on his bare arms. Noticing Hakuryuu, he lifted his head, and again Hakuryuu was caught in the tracker beam of his bottomless eyes. “Hey, look who’s back! Am I allowed out of time-out yet or are you just here to put a dunce cap on me and get on with your day?”

Sighing thinly through his nose, Hakuryuu shook his head. “You are not in time-out. I never put you in time-out, you’re not five. You are filthy, and until you’re not I’m not letting you in my house, is that clear?”

Judal blinked, uncomprehendingly. “What? I wasn’t listening. Can you repeat that?”

Grimacing, Hakuryuu gently pinched the torn sleeve of Judal’s shirt, if one could still call it a shirt. “I’m going to hose you down if I have to so help me. We have running water, but I’m gonna have to work the pump to get it going. Can I leave you alone for three seconds in an empty tub so I can do manual labor for your benefit?”

“Uh, you’re assuming I want to take a bath.” Judal wiggled out of his grasp as easily as sand slipping between loose fingers. “You’re also assuming I’m gonna let you help me do it, or look at me naked. That’s a privilege, not a right!”

Reddening, feeling slightly frustrated, Hakuryuu resisted the urge to stomp his foot like a toddler. “I don’t want to see you naked, I’m trying to help you! Fine, go take a bath in the pond for all I care, just be clean!” With that, he turned back to the cabin, stalking back inside. He was not the man for this job. If somebody else wanted to rehabilitate a filthy stranger, that was their problem, right?

He grabbed a ratty mop and bucket, swabbing down the hallway where Judal had tracked his mud. Let this be anyone’s issue but his.

There was a knock on the door, which had swung open a little in Hakuryuu’s wake. Judal peeped through the crack, giving a small wave once he was sure Hakuryuu could see him. “Yeah, me again, can I borrow some soap?” 

***

Just like that, Judal had become Hakuryuu’s problem. Leaving the mop slumped in a corner, Hakuryuu retrieved a gritty block of soap from the closet, opening the door all the way. “There. It doesn’t feel great, but it’ll get you clean. Now, do you wanna take an actual bath or did you like the idea of the pond better?” 

“Pond? I have another question though. What’s your name?”

Hakuryuu stared, feeling a little astounded. Why did he assume this perfect stranger would know his name? “It’s Ryuu.” He said simply, before starting down the trail. Judal’s footsteps were soft, so soft that Hakuryuu could hardly hear him following along behind. He was like a mirage, only half there. 

The forest held its breath again as they walked, Judal’s presence muting or silencing the usual sounds of nature. Hakuryuu tried not to get used to the eerie quiet, but he found himself getting accustomed to it anyway. After an eternity of walking along a faint trail, strung through a thick bank of ferns sprouting from the murk, the silver mirror of the pond flashed out from between the trees. Hakuryuu gestured, before sitting down on a nearby rock and turning around to face away from the water. “It’s all yours.” He sighed. 

Judal flashed him a grin, his pearly white teeth as incongruous with the rest of him as as oasis was in the desert. “Thanks. And I didn’t really mean it, you can look at me naked if you want to.”

Hakuryuu shook his head too quickly. “No. No, I do not want to. No thank you.” But _didn’t_ he want to? Whispered a traitorous voice in the back of his mind. Of course he didn’t. Judal was a stranger who could possibly murder him, tear out his still-beating heart and run it back to his mother any minute now. Hakuryuu’s intuition was begging him to leave well enough alone. His common sense, at the very least, wanted nothing more to do with him than prodding him in the right direction towards taking care of himself. But then why did the worst, foolish, lizardy part of his brain try to hard to convince the rest of him that he did want to see his potential assassin naked?

Because he definitely, consciously, did not. It was Judal’s fault for bringing it up and making him think about it. It was probably Hakuryuu’s own fault that he was starved for… well, any skin-to-skin contact. Wasn’t that a trade that had to happen somewhere down the line? At the end of the day, the need for safety and security always overpowered what desire Hakuryuu might have to touch another person. He cornered the thought, stuffed it in a box, and mentally sat on it, willing it not to open again. 

Behind him, the tell-tale splashing of Judal wading into the water echoed loudly in the unnatural silence. Normally, there would be frogs croaking, hopping about in the reeds, cicadas buzzing in the trees, but there was nothing at all, only the sound of water sloughing off Judal’s body. Which Hakuryuu was _not_ supposed to be thinking about. 

The sun rose higher above the trees, the light changing from pale to golden, and as the last ferns began to unfurl their heads, Judal returned. He was still wearing the same shredded tank top and black sweatpants as before, which were now somehow clean and seemingly dry, but that wasn’t astonishing compared to his appearance once the dirt was cleared away. The bright jewelry around his wrists and neck shone, but only partly with precious metals; chunks of dried bone, teeth and ribs looped around his body, human finger joints clicking at his ankles. 

Worse than that was the tattoo, not a bruise, that snaked a path around his torso, criss-crossing his abdomen. The rings and dots blurred into each other, dark blue ink tracing a slow wave into a symbol Hakuryuu was very familiar with: an eight-pointed star, set just to the left of Judal’s navel. Judal looked up from his braid, which he had been twisting dry as he walked. “Oh, now you wanna look? Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Judal snorted, tossing his braid over his other shoulder and stalking back away in the direction of Hakuryuu’s cabin. 

On his back, crossing his spine, another tattoo. This one Hakuryuu didn’t recognize. It was a mass of lines like reaching hands, whorls and arches like a fingerprint, all bunching together in a dark clotted mass. A black sun, Hakuryuu thought vaguely, watching Judal go, his hair swinging back and forth like a pendulum over the design. A dark planet of unknowable power, blotting out the sky. 

***

At first, it was that Hakuryuu was too paranoid to tell Judal to leave. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer, right? If Judal really was sent to find him, it would be better to keep an eye on him, make sure there was nothing out of the ordinary. It was pity, too, the idea that Judal might really be afraid of something out there. A force Hakuryuu knew all too well.

And so it came that Judal, like the trees, the butterflies that swarmed Hakuryuu’s garden plot, the toads that lived in the leaf-litter beneath the steps of his cabin, became an installation in his life. 

The initial silence Judal instilled in the woodland abated as the days went on. When Hakuryuu made his breakfast, Judal would knock on the door to ask for some, supposedly because he didn’t want to talk to anyone down at the larger communal kitchen. When Hakuryuu went to tend to his vegetables, Judal trailed along behind like a stray cat. He didn’t help, and he didn’t talk much, unless it was to tease or bother Hakuryuu. At night, he disappeared off somewhere in the woods, going up and up the old glacial ridge until he vanished from view. 

Occasionally he would perch in a tree near the cabin, his back pressed against the resin-stained pine trunk. His braid swung down over his shoulder, dangling like a rope in a bell tower. Every time Hakuryuu passed beneath, he had to stop himself from yanking on it. On days like that, Judal was particularly withdrawn, and when Hakuryuu allowed himself to steal a look at him, his bottomless eyes (which indeed had three irises, one after the other like the rings of a target) were distant and glazed. Either he was watching for a sign, Hakuryuu assumed, or his mind was wandering where no one but he could follow.

Where had Judal been? Where had he come from, and what had he seen there? He was a new variable in Hakuryuu’s life, and try as he might run mental circles around the mystery of his existence, his greater purpose, there was no cookie-cutter place for him to fit neatly.

One night, it rained hard, water washing down the hillside in streams, and Hakuryuu woke to find Judal curled up asleep on his steps the next morning, his head just tucked beneath the awning. He was different when he was sleeping, his restless strange energy gone quiet, his face slack and eyelids twitching. He was almost- almost, but not quite- peaceful. Hakuryuu watched for a moment or two, before realizing that he was doing exactly the thing he’d chastised Judal so heavily before only a short time ago. What a hypocrite he was, in the end. He couldn’t stop himself, however, from sitting down on the steps beside him and remaining there until Judal stirred. 

Instantly, there was a grin on Judal’s face, the self-satisfied smile of a cat that always knew it would catch the canary eventually. “Hey asshole,” he looked up, meeting Hakuryuu’s eyes, “how does it feel to literally shatter your own creepiness standards? You’re way closer to me than I was to you, and I had a reason for watching you sleep. This is just weird.”

Hakuryuu scowled, pulling away like Judal might be radioactive. “I was not watching you sleep, there was a bug on you and I was trying to make sure it didn’t bite you!” He stammered out, hoping Judal would take the bait.

“Yeah, okay, what kind of bug?” Judal asked, sitting up and stretching out his limbs. 

“A stink-bug,” Hakuryuu lied, “it was right on your cheek.”

“Sure, sure it was,” he rolled his eyes, “I love lying too, but get better at it. Now where’s breakfast, I’m hungry!”

***  
Judal became, slowly- as hard as this was for Hakuryuu to think- normal. No, that wasn’t quite right. Judal would never, ever be normal. But, Hakuryuu thought one morning, as Judal sat cross-legged on the floor, eating a bowl of oatmeal, he would definitely notice it if Judal one day up and disappeared. Maybe he would even miss the guy. Just a little bit.

Clearing his throat, Hakuryuu spoke up, interrupting Judal’s breakfast. “Hey, do you want to come see god?”

This took Judal off-guard. He looked up, laughing, spitting out a little oatmeal. “Hold on a sec, come see what now? God? There’s so much wrong with that, I can’t even-”

“It’ll make more sense once you see it! I swear!” Hakuryuu insisted, a smile threatening to play across his lips. Shit, how long had it been since he’d smiled this much? What a stupid thought. He brushed it away quickly. “Finish that. Or don’t, I don’t care very much, just don’t leave it where insects can get at it.” 

Judal scarfed down the rest of the bowl, and leaving it empty on the floor of Hakuryuu’s room, he stood up and blinked expectantly. “Whatever, if you say so. Where’s god at?”

Down the long winding ridge, Hakuryuu led him. Through open spaces, thin grasses waving gently in the breeze, through dense brush and undergrowth, until the ground began to level and the shards of a broken road peeked through shallow levels of weathered dirt and pebbles. It was a warm day but a cloudy one, roiling grey clouds tossing over and under each other like woolen sweaters in the wash. Judal followed along good-naturedly. Somehow, his bare feet seemed not to slow him down at all, even on rocky ground, and he went quietly; no little snappish comments today, Hakuryuu noted, with a mixture of unease and relief. 

In the flat land, Hakuryuu felt like he could be standing in a crater. An old, old crater, the scorched earth long filled in, but with the depression still clear, like a cosmic hand had reached down to direct the glaciers there thousands of years ago. There was empty, wide space, dotted with the saplings of recently planted trees (planted by the Verdant Lords, who else?) and tall, twisted metal poles. They were rusted and gaunt alongside the trees, a hundred crooked men walking no crooked miles. Barely standing in their shadows, a cracked stucco building, looking like it could fall down flat any minute. Hakuryuu swept his arm out toward it. “There it is,” he said, letting the building speak for itself.

Judal pretended to snore. “Looks like shit, if you ask me. Am I supposed to be impressed?”

“Nah, not really,” Hakuryuu caught himself almost smiling again, “because it’s not. Impressive, I mean. In fact, it’s a little sad, this thing they worship. I’m sure only half of them believe it, and for them it’s like a big game of pretend.” He started again, crossing a weedy plain and holding the dark, plexiglass door open for Judal before following him into the ruined interior. It smelled old and dusty, but not quite rotten. Ivy and clinging vines consumed the floor and walls, and in a dark corner, a cricket chirped so rhythmically you could’ve set a metronome by it. In a pale shaft of light, the glint of metal stood out from the gloom. It was sharply angled in the floor, the crack in the roof suggesting it had fallen in from a great height, the twisted edges reminiscent of torn rebar or the salvage of a car wreck. 

It would’ve been completely normal, if not for the design faintly etched onto its surface. Interlocking lines, geometrically unsettling angles, a mark that emanated waves of otherworldliness. No human could have created such a design. 

Judal froze, examining it. “This? They think this thing is a god?” His voice didn’t carry a scoffing tone, only incredulous wonder. 

“Yeah, this it is. What do you think? It’s something, but it’s probably not sentient. Or a divine being.” Hakuryuu shrugged. The metal glimmered quietly, reflecting the red of Judal’s eyes, the warped shape of his body. Judal laughed, shaking his head, and warmth spread within Hakuryuu’s chest like an inkblot on tissue paper; swiftly and permanently. 

He was letting his guard down, he realized, his throat constricting with fear. If Judal wanted to take advantage of that, now was his time. He could turn around and murder Hakuryuu right there, and no one would hear, and no one would know.

But Judal only, turned, hands on his hips. “Let people believe what they want, I say,” he said, perfect teeth flashing in a smirk that claimed to know more than he let on, “it’s their choice. Ain’t like there’s much to believe in anymore.”

***  
Hakuryuu, try as he might, could not be constantly on his guard. It was impossible, especially not where the intruder into the peaceful (if mundane) life he made for himself came in. Hell, Judal should terrify him. He should’ve been rid of him weeks ago. He was creepy, first of all. Second of all, it was very clear that at one point or another he had known Hakuryuu’s mother. Third, and maybe most convincing, it was easier to watch your back and be proactive than to have to deal with the consequences of your blind spot later.

Judal was like a stray cat he had picked up; a cat with arsenic tipped nails.

It was the middle of the night. Two, maybe three am, and Hakuryuu could not sleep because his mind was full of Judal. He knew _nothing_ real about this man, but that didn’t stop his brain from replaying the same footage, going back down the same train of thought again and again. Judal was dangerous, but was he really? 

Hakuryuu was only human. His mother, he was pretty sure, was not. How could you be human, and still do what she had done? Hakuryuu, stupidly, clung to his morality. He couldn’t kill Judal without proof he was going to hurt him, how could he do a thing like that and live with himself, especially with the potential that Judal might really be a refugee from Gyokuen Ren’s cause, just like him? How could he do a thing to hurt Judal, when that intruder, the person who warped and refracted his banal existence, was the only person he could think of that put warmth in his heart?

He was rude and he was crass and he never cleaned up after himself, but shit if he wasn’t good company.

But, Hakuryuu’s inner voice of caution whispered, he might yet kill you. He might bludgeon him to death when his back was turned, choke him, shank him, shoot him. He might take his time with it, his nimble hands working a knife into his ribs, his sternum, his- Judal would be above him, his cold hands moving, his red eyes glowing, and suddenly Hakuryuu’s thoughts dipped, his imagination turning to a different fantasy. He was only human, after all, and Judal’s body in his mind’s eye was pale as though in moonlight. The specifics of the fantasy were vague, but it was clear Judal was touching him. 

Why had he refused Judal’s invitation to look at him naked the first time? Hakuryuu thought, his mind fuzzy. He wouldn’t be having such a hard time picturing him naked now. He covered his face, feeling heat spread across his cheeks. He was an adult for crying out loud, he shouldn’t be this embarrassed about having these thoughts in his own damn bed! In his head, Judal was everywhere, his cool legs spreading Hakuryuu’s, hands stroking the most delicate part of his innermost thigh, nails scratching gently to bring pain to the surface of his skin. 

Hakuryuu couldn’t stop the quiet moan that rose to his lips. He was wet, so fucking wet that the insides of his boxers were sticking to his legs. How long had it even been since he let himself entertain thoughts like this? Way too long, was the answer. There was a molten core of heat sparking to powerful life inside him, his skin aching for contact. Come to think of it, how long had it been since he touched another living person either?

As the Judal in his mind, grinning in his familiar way, began to stroke Hakuryuu, Hakuryuu in real life found himself doing the same, though his hand shook and his heartbeat leapt. He gasped aloud, clamping his mouth shut as a cry of Judal’s name bubbled up his throat. No, he wouldn’t call for him. Doing this in silence was one thing, but what if Judal somehow heard and came to investigate? 

Barely containing the sounds that struggled to get free of him, Hakuryuu pressed down, clumsily rubbing his hormone-enlarged clit. He was _hard_ , he considered, dazedly, and with every tiny movement of his hand, pleasure lit up in parallel circuits up and down his body. When he first started to hunt down and clear out old pharmacies, he assumed there would be nothing left, and while that was true for most medications, things like medically administered testosterone had been left alone. It had taken months of scavenging to find enough to build up a permanent store. He deserved this, he really did. Moving faster, he imagined Judal moving faster too, and his voice clear as day, murmuring praise in his ear. It wasn’t normal praise, though, and Hakuryuu surprised himself again with that; Judal was practically sycophantic, laving Hakuryuu in adoration, begging for his touch, for Hakuryuu to pin him down and do whatever he wanted.

It was that last thought that put Hakuryuu over the edge. As he curled tightly around himself, a low, hoarse moan escaped him, the rush of climax shuddering through him. His hand was wet, he realized numbly, probably a whole minute later, and he tried to wipe it off on the side of his mattress. He was seriously going to need a shower, or at least new boxers. 

That was a problem for the morning though; for now, he was exhausted. He curled himself around his pillow as he drifted off, trying with all his might to imagine another person fitting warmly into his arms. Maybe even a person with silky dark hair, and a peaceful face when he slept. 

***

The next day, there was more news. Hakuryuu never knew what to seriously believe, so he kept this piece of information to himself, but it was enough to frighten him without being confirmed. In the absence of a priest, Gyokuen Ren’s cult needed more power, and allegedly, the best way to get more was human sacrifice. Lots and lots of human sacrifice. 

His fantasy from the night before was forgotten; now in Hakuryuu’s mind played the faces of the innocent. The hypnotized, young and old, who might have died for nothing but a high-stakes game of pretend. 

***

“I want to see where you sleep,” Hakuryuu demanded, interrupting a soliloquy Judal was going on about the evils of wearing shoes. 

Judal, who was lying down in the grass just to the left of Hakuryuu’s tomato patch, made a face. “I was making great points, were you even listening? And what kinda question is that? I don’t need you stalking me now. It’s nothing to write home about.” 

He tried to dismiss the question, but there was a guarded way in which he pushed Hakuryuu’s request aside. “I’ll listen to the rest later,” Hakuryuu promised, standing and brushing dirt off his pants, “but I really need to see. I still don’t know where you go at night, and there are wild animals out there you know. If you’re not safe at night, that’s a problem.” 

Judal rolled his eyes. “C’mon, we were having fun! What a busy-body thing to ask anyway…” Regardless of how much of a busy-body Hakuryuu was really being, Judal pushed himself up with a heavy sigh. “But I’ll do it, if you really wanna see, I guess.” Waving Hakuryuu to follow him, he started up towards the top of the ridge, soon passing by Hakuryuu’s cabin. Hakuryuu watched the muscles in his back shift and pull, changing the shape and size of the tattoo there. The black mass curled and bent, like a living breathing thing. Hakuryuu looked away from it, feeling slightly dizzy.

There was always the chance Hakuryuu would spot something at Judal’s camp that would link him to his mother. Or, on the other hand, acquit Judal of doubt completely. Or Judal might use the solitude to kill Hakuryuu once and for all. 

The thought sent an almost masochistic shiver down his spine. 

Judal stopped overlooking a slight dip in the ground, a cup-like divot shadowed by a pine tree. The sloping branches dipped low, almost hiding a tattered, grey tent from sight. Dotted around the tent in the leaflitter, mushrooms were springing up in the damp. There was no sign of a fire-pit, or any possessions outside the tent itself. Judal spread his arms, as if to say ‘that’s all folks, nothing to see here.’ “Ta fuckin da. Home sweet home!” He announced.

Sliding a little on the damp leaves, Hakuryuu poked at the tent, which was flimsy and thin. Peering into the unzipped entrance, the only thing Hakuryuu could see was a bundled up white shawl, like a pillow, and a moth-eaten blanket rumpled next to it. What valuables Judal had, he wore on his person at all times. It was a sad little tableaux; the blanket lying like a sick animal on the wrinkled tarp floor, and the white shawl an impassive iceberg beside it. 

Hakuryuu turned looking back up to Judal, his nose wrinkling in distaste. “You live like this?”

“Yeah? How else would I live, in a luxury penthouse?”

It made Hakuryuu furious. There he was down the hill in a house with a wood-burning stove, and Judal, in his stupidly revealing outfit had been camping out here every night without even a fire. How had he been doing it? Why wasn’t he sick already? It had to be a sheer miracle that he was healthy at all. Hakuryuu felt a sense of responsibility come over him, a need to shelter Judal. To protect him. “You can’t stay out here any more.” Hakuryuu delivered the ultimatum in the calmest voice he could muster up. “From now on you sleep in my cabin, got that? You can pack this all up or just leave it, I don’t care, but you will not stay out here another night.”

Judal looked downright insulted. “You think I can’t handle a little cold or something, is that it?” He hissed, crossing his arms. 

“No, no, not at all!” Hakuryuu said hastily. “I would just feel. Um. Better if you did. It’s for my benefit, not yours.”

Scoffing quietly, Judal shrugged, his competence somewhat reasserted. “If it makes you feel safer to have me around, sure. If it were anybody but you, I woulda said no.”

“Are you gonna take your stuff or just leave it out here?”

Judal slid down into the shallow pit, grabbing the shawl from inside the tent and folding it loosely into a triangle shape. “That’s about it.” He said, in an uncharacteristically quiet tone. They walked back side by side, and the silence grew comfortable between them, placing its arms around their shoulders and settling in like an old friend.

***

Hakuryuu had asked around for a cot, with no success. There were no spare sleeping bags either. He couldn’t let Judal sleep on the floor like a dog, right? Even curled up near the stove, it would be warm but not comfortable. Judal was nowhere to be found when Hakuryuu returned from his fruitless quest, but the sun was setting earlier than ever, and Hakuryuu changed into more appropriate sleepwear; loose flannel pants with a tear in the knee, and a wrinkled black t-shirt. He no longer had the luxury of sleeping shirtless.

He was just lighting the stove, setting the loose tinder in the bottom aglow when Judal returned, stepping into the cabin like it was his divine right. No sneaking inside anymore, now he could just let the door bang open carelessly on his way in. Judal paused behind Hakuryuu to watch him work. “So?” He asked, expectantly, “Where do I sleep?”

Hakuryuu sighed. “In my bed. With me.” He was really starting to wonder if that was a good choice. Or rather, how much of his subconscious desire was guiding his conscious thought. 

“Really? Shit, if anybody deserves to sleep on the floor it’s me,” Judal tossed off the words casually, but where they landed Hakuryuu could sense a deeper weight. Judal was a master, clearly, at revealing nothing about himself, but was this a sign that the door closing off his depths was starting to open?

“Really,” he stood, grabbing another blanket from the closet. He’d heard it might get cold tonight. “I’m gonna go get us some dinner. Make yourself comfortable but not too comfortable… in other words, do not touch my shit.”

Judal plopped himself on the bed, drawing his legs to his chest. “You just think you’re interesting enough to get spied on, I get it.” He laughed, his eyes backlit with a sour glow. Hakuryuu, unsettled, wasted no time in leaving the cabin. 

***

Getting into bed, Hakuryuu flattened himself almost completely against the wall. The room was dim, but the orange twilight from within the stove was just enough for Hakuryuu to see by. He closed his eyes, hoping that he could pretend to sleep long enough for Judal to either fall asleep himself, or make the long awaited killing blow- which Hakuryuu, being aware of it, would be able to strike back and hopefully live another day. Judal still shuffled about, the noise of his bare feet on the wood a soft whisper like the wings of an insect, and Hakuryuu slowed his breathing to the rhythm of sleep, long and slow. 

Before long, the mattress creaked, Judal getting under the covers and -thank fuck- not directly touching Hakuryuu. That would’ve given him away for sure. Then, his voice; “Hakuryuu… Ryuu… you’re still awake. I know it.” 

Hakuryuu stiffened. He’d been caught. He turned slightly, opening his good eye. “Yes? And I was trying to sleep. The key word is trying. What do you want?”

There was a long pause, Judal’s shadowed face impossible to read, before he replied. “I guess I don’t know,” he laughed nervously, “I just don’t fuckin… maybe I had something and I forgot it? That happens.” 

Hakuryuu nodded slowly, and it occurred to him that Judal was ridiculously close. So close that he could feel his warmth radiating under the blankets, placing soft fingers on his back and legs. “Yeah, that happens,” he admitted, his body pressing the neural call button over and over again, waking up to the reality that touch was on the pyramid of needs right below food, water and shelter. 

“Well…” Judal slithered closer, and without asking permission, he fitted himself against Hakuryuu’s back, sliding an arm around his waist. “Good night, then.”

There was no way in hell Hakuryuu was going to sleep now. Not with Judal’s heart beating right up against his, his slim fingers touching his side. Did Judal feel the same way as he did? All this time, was his odd behaviour just an excuse to get close to Hakuryuu and find some form of human contact? If anything, that was the option Hakuryuu liked best. Silently hoping that was the truth, Hakuryuu leaned back into him, feeling his soft breath on the back of his neck. 

A rush moved swiftly though Hakuryuu’s body, the way his foot felt after being asleep. Judal’s fingers moved ever so slightly, like a spider moving cautiously across a thin web, pushing up the hem of Hakuryuu’s shirt and tracing a light pattern on the skin just west of his navel. He shivered, quickly biting the inside of his lip, but the stump of his left arm shifted beneath the blanket, pressing Judal’s hand down. Judal laughed at this, snorting a tiny bit through his nose. “I knew you were different,” he murmured, like a man possessed, “cause when you touch me, it’s…” He breathed another word, but Hakuryuu could hardly make it out. Did he say… safe?

Hakuryuu slowly moved his hips backward, and Judal pressed back, sending another rush shivering through him. A soft, partially strangled noise clawed its way up from his lungs, and at this, Judal pushed aside his hair and nipped at the back of his neck.

It wasn’t quite painful, but it was enough to be the straw that broke the camel’s back. “Judal are you sure you know what you’re asking for? Because if there’s some kind of misunderstanding right now it’s not going to be good and we can’t just not say what we want and hope the other person will be able to read our mind, that’s not how it works,” he said quickly, feeling blood begin to flow quickly through his arteries, speeding towards his already somewhat hard clit.

“I know what I want, Hakuryuu,” Judal’s words were stretched thin, his voice raspy, “you think this whole time I could just watch you and not want to touch you?”

“Why did you wait so long?” Hakuryuu nudged Judal’s hand with his stump, pushing it south, and Judal took the hint, his fingers darting for the drawstring of Hakuryuu’s pants.

“I had to make sure you were… safe. I couldn’t let you do this if you weren’t, if I wasn’t sure. What’s the point of this if…” He trailed off again, struggling to open the door, to let the floodwaters out of the dam behind his teeth, ignoring the question to dip his hand lower still and gently stroke Hakuryuu over his boxer-briefs. 

Hakuryuu shivered, fireworks of heat popping in his stomach. “One last question,” he breathed, moments away from losing the battle with his composure, “you don’t care, do you? That I’m not- not a- that I don’t have a dick?” He finished, lamely.

Laughing almost uncontrollably, Judal pulled away for a moment, distracted by a joke only he found wildly funny. Hakuryuu tensed. Was he laughing at him? But then Judal replied, and the tension, foolish as it had clearly been, disappeared. “No, no,” he wheezed, “haven’t you noticed? Like, sometimes you’re an idiot, but this takes the fuckin cake… I can’t… I don’t have one either, dummy,” and to prove his point, Judal shifted back, tossing his tattered shirt to the floor with a soft thump, another thump following suit, before pressing himself pointedly against Hakuryuu again.

Gasping in surprise, Hakuryuu twisted, trying to look Judal in the eyes. “Y-you... “ Judal was right. He was an idiot. All this time he should’ve picked up on something. How was Judal able to pass so well for so long? And now here he was, his head forcibly ejected from his own asshole, Judal’s slight but obviously present breasts pushing at his back.

Judal snorted. “Yep, me. Can I get back to what I was doing? Before you so rudely interrupted?”

Hakuryuu nodded, stunned. “P-please,” he managed, and as Judal’s hand slid back between his legs, he cursed himself for being too self-absorbed to even notice that Judal was the same as him that whole time. It took away some of the nerves, that was for sure. He let his composure finally slip, rocking downwards into Judal’s hand, quiet moans sneaking into his breaths. 

Judal purred quietly. “That’s way better. You know what else I want? Now that we’re being honest, Hakuryuu, I decided I want you to fuck me. Just you, cause I know nobody else could do it like you. There’s only one of you, and…” He trailed off, letting Hakuryuu’s brain fill in the blanks. Relieved, Hakuryuu twisted again, rolling over and flatting Judal beneath him. He was sick of being embarrassed, having to hide what he wanted. Where was that going to get either of them?

“Good, because I want that too.” Hakuryuu pulled off his own shirt before kicking his pajama bottoms off the rest of the way. He met Judal’s eyes, those bottomless rings, infernally lit, and found them full of emotion. What emotion, he couldn’t put his finger on, but all at once possessive, adoring, adulating. Feeling hypnotized, he bent slower and lower, caressing the hateful sigil on Judal’s stomach, which was becoming less and less a thing of fear. He kissed Judal deeply, and although his mouth was strangely cold, Judal responded immediately, wrapping his arms tight around Hakuryuu and pulling him close.

It felt so good to pull off Judal’s sweatpants, to move against him as best as he could, but for Hakuryuu, even better was the feeling of being held. Judal kissed him more fiercely, lips parted, a groan passing from him to Hakuryuu’s mouth, and still the weight of his arms around him was better. In the dusk, the light of the stove having sunk lower, Hakuryuu clumsily removed the last barriers between them and blindly shifted his hips against Judal, full contact finally made. 

Judal broke the kiss, grinning, his white teeth visible in the twilight. “Come on Ryuu.” He moved down, pressing himself against Hakuryuu in a way that made him shudder with the need to be inside him (in whatever small way he could actually achieve that). “I know how fucking strong you are, working that dumb farm stuff all day. I know what you could do to me. Just a little further down…” Hakuryuu shifted, at last sinking an inch or so into Judal, who instantly tightened his grip on him, his nails digging into his back. “Perfect. Now please tell me you know what to do next?”

Of course Hakuryuu knew what to do, because his whole body was aching for him to do it. He ground into him, rocking his hips slightly but with purpose. Judal positively vibrated with pleasure, his eyes like dying suns in the abyss of space, and he hooked a leg around Hakuryuu’s waist, forcing him to move faster. Hakuryuu couldn’t help going along with it, and before long the headboard jolted against the cabin wall, thudding rhythmically with each thrust. 

Judal yanked him back for another kiss, biting his lips, one hand gripping his hair, and the pain only pushed Hakuryuu further. There was a moment when Judal pulled away where he audibly whined, the words to beg him for more getting lost in his frustration, but then Judal dragged his other hand down his back, long nails sparking a trail of red-hot pain, and Hakuryuu nearly came right then. “You like getting hurt, huh?” Judal teased, panting heavily, the thumping of the headboard almost drowning him out, and Hakuryuu nodded, knowing that yes, he did like getting hurt, probably more than he ought to. 

“So do I…” Judal purred. “That stays between us, got it?” And when Hakuryuu nodded again, Judal laid back, exposing his neck. Taking the hint, Hakuryuu sucked hard at the skin, using his teeth liberally, until he could feel blood on his tongue and Judal was squirming under him, his hips jumping and twitching as he came. 

Judal, hands shaking but still strong, wasted no time in tightening them around Hakuryuu’s neck. For one moment, Hakuryuu feared that he might really choke him. But no; the pressure was firm but even, painful but not overwhelming, and Hakuryuu released at last with a strangled moan trapped in his throat. 

Judal’s body was warmer now, Hakuryuu noted, as he rolled, exhausted, off him. Judal, uncharacteristically quiet, wrapped both arms back around Hakuryuu. For a minute or more they lay in the near silence, Judal’s breath loud in Hakuryuu’s ear, their heartbeats hard and unsynchronized. 

Judal might’ve opened his mouth to say something, but by then Hakuryuu, completely worn out, was just drifting off into sleep, and whatever the words, they fell on deaf ears. 

***

“I know who you are Hakuryuu Ren, I always knew,” came the rasping whisper, jolting Hakuryuu out of the first peaceful sleep he’d had in a long, long time. 

Hakuryuu snapped upright, reaching for his knife, only to come up empty; he was completely naked, and his knife was probably lost somewhere on the floor. In a blind panic, he scanned the room for an intruder, but the only person he could see was-

Judal lay still, one unfathomably deep eye wide open, his lips just barely moving. “Surprised?” He laughed softly. “I’m a good actor right?”

“Are you here to kill me?” He heard his own voice as though from a thousand miles away. He should’ve known this was how it would end. So, so stupid. Judal had manipulated him after all, and now that it came down to it, he’d only have his bare hands to defend himself.

“No. That’s not true. I could never.” Judal rasped, shaking his head. “I just need you to know… like shit, I didn’t expect I’d like you this much, but you have to know why I needed to find you so bad.” He reached out, his hand closing on Hakuryuu’s wrist. It was a firm touch, insistent. “You’re the only thing that gave me hope for years.”

Hakuryuu, stunned, could do nothing more than stare. What on earth was he talking about? “Explain yourself. Right fucking now.” He muttered, too shocked to put a threat into his voice. 

This was it. Somewhere during the night, the door within Judal had opened and now the contents were spilling free, the subterranean rivers of truth about to overflow and flood the surface. “They took me when I was really small,” Judal started, “Gyokuen Ren. And her people. I would’ve have even known if your sister didn’t tell me.

“Yeah, Hakuei was always the best to me.” 

Hakuryuu shivered at the mention of his sister. That was an act for which he hadn’t yet forgiven himself; leaving her back there while he ran.

“She kinda took care of me in a weird way,” Judal went on, “she brought me food, made sure I wasn’t too badly hurt when I came back from… anyway, I’m… I was like their pet. I was their god, the thing they were all worshipping, but when I acted out they still came at me. Cause you teach bad animals by making them afraid, y’know?”

“The priest? It’s you? I heard you ran away.” Everything made sense. The tattoos, the gold, the time when Judal arrived. Of course it was him.

Judal nodded. “Yeah, it was me alright. I don’t remember everything but in a lot of ways that’s a blessing cause I think if I did I would hate myself. If I remember all the stuff I had to do… and the most fucked part of it is I think sometimes I was enjoying it. Like it was fun, which… I don’t know. It’s fucked.

“But yeah, Hakuei told me. That you were still out here. I kept coming back remembering what I did, what they did to me,” and here, the anger began to leak into his voice, staining his words, “all the shit they put me through just because I was special, because I could work their magic and kill and be their toy, but thinking about you made it okay. If you were out here somewhere, I could keep going, and maybe one day I could escape like you did. So I created this version of you, y’know? A hero, somebody more than human who would maybe, maybe if I was good enough, come save me.”

Hakuryuu’s fear retreated like a vast glacier, leaving only the meltwaters of sorrow in its place. “But you had to save yourself. I get it. I really, really, really do. I’m sorry. I’m sorry too that… I’m probably not the person you dreamed me up to be. I wish I was a hero. I wish I-”

“But you are,” Judal’s voice rose, hardened with malice, “You are the man I knew you were, from the moment I saw you sleeping here, I knew it was you. There’s a piece of your heart that’s burnt, Hakuryuu, and you hid it, but it’s there. You could do it, you could go back and with me by your side, you could fucking paint the street with blood.”

No, Hakuryuu wanted to say, no that isn’t me. But the moment the words left Judal’s mouth, he could feel, almost physically, the hardened tissue of his heart burn in his chest. How could he have forgotten? The hatred and the fantasies of vengeance, of justice were buried, but they were intact. Judal, intense and awake and alive, sat up and cupped his cheek. His hand was chillingly cold. “Ryuu, I know. She deserves to pay. All of them do. And you are the man who can do it, I’ve known that forever.” He gently traced the scar with his thumb, running over the line where ruined and healthy skin met. 

Hakuryuu was awake too, more so than he had been in a long time. The old wounds were open, every single day he had spent with his mother rushing back out into sight, the horror of life in the city returning in a blur. He was angry. No, furious. Enraged at the absence of justice, and as the lesions swelled, pumping black hatred through to his marrow, the knife was twisted by what had been done to Judal. He felt there was something secretive about him, that much of what he did was a smokescreen to hide behind, and here was the truth; under the protective scab lurked something terrible, the bleeding hooks where Gyokuen Ren had stabbed the puppet strings, nightmare memories Judal either couldn’t or wouldn’t remember. 

“Yes,” he spoke, surprised by the hardness in his words, by the edge of his voice, “I am. But so are you. From here on out we’re together in this. I swear… I’ve spent too long here. We’re gonna end this. She’ll pay.”

Judal grinned widely, his eyes alight. “Make me a promise then. Promise you’ll believe me when I tell you what comes next.”

Hakuryuu nodded once, blood pumping in his ears. “I promise.” It felt like more than a simple promise; it felt truly binding, like an oath taken in severity. 

“Magic’s real, Hakuryuu, and so are the gods you clearly don’t believe in. That’s how we’re gonna win. Well, guns help, but magic? That’s our key to victory. Take me to your plant god, I’m gonna wake him the hell up and tell him we mean business.”

***

And Hakuryuu believed him. What reason did he have to lie? As he dressed, there was a new deliberateness to his movements. Just buttoning his shirt (blue, and short-sleeved) he felt there was an efficiency in it, a purpose. Even more obvious was the way Judal looked at him now, as though he really was someone with power. 

Before leaving the cabin, Hakuryuu stopped Judal in the hall, cupping his cheek and kissing him insistently. Judal hummed, and Hakuryuu could feel him smirking against his lips, kissing back with the same intensity. What were they, now? Hakuryuu thought, and then immediately answered himself. It didn’t matter what they were. No matter how people tried to keep them relevant, the standards of the old world were over. They were each other’s, and that was what truly meant anything. 

“So, what kind of magic can you do? What’s your talent?” Hakuryuu asked, as they started walking the trail down towards the flatter land. 

Judal grinned, cracking the knuckles of his left hand. “Aw shit, you wanna see? I haven’t done any in so long, I feel like, stunted. I gotta get back in practice though. Ready?”

“Ready. Surprise me.” 

Judal paused, concentrating and cocking his head to one side, as if listening for a soft sound in the distance. In a moment or two, he had straightened up, jogging to rejoin Hakuryuu. “Oh, I will,” he assured him, his lips curled smugly. 

Before long, there was rustling in the foliage, the sound of uneven, perhaps even clumsy steps reaching Hakuryuu’s ears. Suddenly, the pace picked up, the steps fast approaching, and out of a bend in the hill came the stinking, half-rotted corpse of a white-tailed buck. Flies buzzed around it intermittently. Its eyes had been plucked out, and its side was torn open, innards dangling down to its knees. The bloating was obvious. Yet, its horns were still proud and nearly stainless, the unblemished rack giving the thing an air of decorum even in death. Judal laughed, twisting his hands back and forth, his joints angled unnaturally, and the buck bowed, springing back and forth with all the grace of a living thing. “Do you like it?” Judal asked, expectantly, like a cat bringing home a captured bird or mouse.

Hakuryuu stared, his ears ringing. It was awful, but… they needed awful. And in a way, it was also the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, though he would be unable to explain why. “I love it,” he breathed, “what else can you do?”

“This!” Judal excitedly clenched his fists, and the air grew cold. The buck’s remaining pelt rippled before tearing open, thick icicles bursting from the corpse like parasites overwhelming their host. Some of the flies tried to escape, but the air around the ice was too cold; they froze in midair, the swarm dropping to the earth. 

Oddly enough, even counting the previous, Hakuryuu had never felt more aroused in his life. But now they had things to do, and places to go, so he packaged up the feeling for later. “Wow. Just… I… that’s amazing.” He shook his head. “I didn’t realize stuff like this was even possible. For a long time I just went thinking it was a hoax.”

“It probably is fake most of the time!” Judal shrugged. “Lots of people wanna pretend and piggy back off the real thing. But this idol your cult pals are into? Real as can be. Just sleeping, in a way. Dormant, yeah.”

Hakuryuu considered that as they went on, tossing the thought back and forth. “So what I’m guessing you wake to do is wake it up, and then… let it give me magic? How does that work, exactly?”

“Okay, so I’m not exactly an expert here, I have more first-hand experience than anything, but here’s how it goes. A god needs something to live inside, like a snail in a shell. It needs like, physical protection from the world, and without that it kinda just disintegrates. That’s why you get idols and stuff, because that’s the actual object it’s living inside. So you have two options, the way I see it; you find an object you can carry with you, like that knife of yours, and let the god live inside that, or you become the object yourself and… I don’t wanna say eat the god, but that’s basically what happens.”

“You’re speaking from experience, aren’t you?” Hakuryuu sighed. “How many do you have rattling around in there? Can they talk to you? Do they have names or anything?”

Judal grinned. “That’s classified. And you’ll see, if that’s what you wanna do.”

“Is there a benefit to it?”

“Oh, yeah, I mean, you can’t lose the god. If the object breaks, you lose your connection, but you don’t really break unless you die. It’s a weird feeling but you get used to it. Plus bonus features.” He wiggled his fingers, giving the last statement flair. 

Silently, Hakuryuu mulled this over. He assumed it would be permanent, but he had also seen what Judal had been able to do with the buck. How many extra abilities Judal had, he didn’t know. All too quickly, the ground bottomed out, the wide plain opening. Crows were roosting on the roof of the crumbling chapel/shack, incongruous under a blue sky, so blue it looked fake as wallpaper. 

Judal paused by the door, flashing Hakuryuu a look. “Made a choice yet?”

“I’m doing it. It just seems like the better option… does it hurt? Where does it go in?” Hakuryuu opened the door, stepping into the quiet sanctuary. The cricket in the corner had long ago stopped chirping. 

“I think it might depend. For both,” Judal shrugged, bolding approaching the standing shard of metal and pressing one hand flat against it. From the dark corners of the room, appearing from the formless dark, a swarm of winged black things poured forth to rest on Judal’s arms, his shoulders and face and in his hair, too. Hakuryuu flinched back reflexively, but whatever they were, they seemed to pass directly through his skin- the ghosts of insects past, maybe? The temperature plummeted, and Hakuryuu’s breath plumed in the air, farming clouds. He began to shiver. 

Judal, meanwhile, was unbothered. In fact, he seemed elated, lost in a world that only he could see. He laughed, his braid whipping in a sudden breeze, the design etched into the metal beneath his hand glowing brightly from within. A voice spoke, then, from _within_ Hakuryuu’s chest, or so it sounded. It was right up next to his heart, and it resonated through him with each beat. **_Where is the champion? Kingmaker, you’re not giving me many options…_**

Twisting, Judal waggled an elbow at Hakuryuu. “There! He might not look like much to you, but you won’t regret it I promise! He’s something special.” And here, he gave Hakuryuu a new sort of smile, one of commiseration. Affection.

The vines in the corners twisted like thick snakes, wrapping into bundles and slithering with unnerving speed towards Hakuryuu. **_Keep your mouth open_** the voice intoned, louder and deeper, **_and it will hurt less…_**

Could the thing sense his decision? Hakuryu wondered in a blur. Or was it already dead-set on entering him this way? It was too late to move out of the way. The vegetation hit him in a mass, crawling up his legs and torso and pinning him to the crumbling wall, stealing the breath from his lungs. He wheezed, coughing weakly and that was when the first tendril shoved itself down his throat. 

Granted, after it got down midway he could no longer feel it- perhaps it vaporized after a certain point, or melted into him- but he was out of fucks to give about it or higher thought to spare. If he had known what was coming he might have screamed, but the shock forced a kind of rigidity over him. The foliage shoved at him, vying for more room to push inside, bladed leaves and thorns scratching his exposed skin. The corners of his mouth, his face, his neck, stung poignantly, hot rivers of what he dimly registered as his own blood trickling down under his collar. Judal had moved away from the shard of metal, and was at his side, a cold hand gripping his shoulder; Hakuryuu could let most of his consciousness drift, but the pressure of the hand kept him tethered.

As quickly as it had begun, it was over. Hakuryuu slumped against the wall, but didn’t fall further, panting and wiping his bloodied lips. It somehow didn’t hurt as badly as it did a moment ago. He had done it. He had swallowed it, whatever it was, whole, and he could feel a soft movement behind his ribs, alongside his lungs. 

Judal helped him stand fully, a triumphant look in his eyes. “So how are we feeling?”

Hakuryuu caught his breath at last, shaking his head. “Weird. But it’s a good weird, I-” Without meaning to, he’d brushed his hair out of his eyes with his left hand. He didn’t have a left hand, he couldn’t. He hadn’t had one for years!

He did now. It wasn’t flesh and blood, but the smooth, dark wood that sprouted from his stump felt so real he hadn’t even noticed it was out of place. He stared, slowly flexing his fingers, and it felt as natural as anything. The voice spoke again in his mind; this time not in words, but in images, symbols, a whirlwind of information and feelings, and suddenly he understood. 

“Well, his name is Zagan,” the name tasted heavy and strange in Hakuryuu’s mouth, “and…” he looked up to meet Judal’s gaze, wiggling his new fingers. He wanted to smile, to laugh, maybe even cry, but the hard gallstone of his new purpose had settled too deeply in his stomach already for that. “He’s shared his power with me. I’ll learn how to control it, in time. You’ll teach me, right?”

Judal nodded, eagerly. “I’d love to! Don’t worry, I’ll get right to the best parts, you seem like the kind of guy who doesn’t need the basics. What else can you do? Besides y’know, miraculously grow back severed limbs.”

“I’m not entirely sure yet but…” Hakuryuu flexed the wooden fingers again, and as they moved, seamlessly into a fist, he could feel the undercurrent of the forest god’s power. It was dark and green, a river of chlorophyll, the brightest clearings and the blackest marshes, mushrooms and wildflowers and pitcher plants alike. It was so alive. Hakuryuu knew at once that with it, he could just as easily tear a man to pieces as heal him from near death, and the movement behind his ribs beat harder in time with his heart. 

Wrapping his arms around Hakuryuu’s shoulders, Judal moved close, pride written into every line of his face. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but Hakuryuu, thrumming with energy and feeling twice as alive as he had before, stopped him with a hungry, somewhat clumsy kiss. Judal shivered, tightening his arms around him, biting softly on his lower lip before kissing back. 

***  
“We’ve got our magic, I know, but hear me out.” Hakuryuu sighed, turning over the dusty rifle in his hands. “I barely know how to control mine at all. You’re… fuck, you’re amazing, but your abilities are the kind of thing that stands out, and for anything we do to work, we have to at least make it back to the city in the first place.” After settling down with the cultists, Hakuryuu felt he might not ever need a firearm again. He’d abandoned his rifle and two handguns in the closet, where they eventually became lost under an avalanche of relatively useless things, and it was lucky Hakuryuu remembered they existed because otherwise they’d have been there until the house rotted to the ground. 

Judal groaned, making a pained face. “That’s so boring though? Do I have to? This is lame…”

“If you’re gonna bitch,” Hakuryuu tried to navigate by muscle memory, brushing both flesh and wooden fingers over the safety, “you don’t have to hold one. But I’ll be up to me to defend the both of-”

Now unnerved, Judal grabbed the two other guns. “Alright, alright, fine! I won’t let anything happen to you.” He muttered, fiddling with the barrels. “Shit, these are loaded. But for real, while I’m around nothing’s gonna happen to you.” He looked up, waiting for a response. “It won’t, I promise.”

Hakuryuu snorted, relaxing. “I know that. But how about this; while I’m here, nothing will happen to you either. I’ll teach you how to shoot that on the way, we’ll probably have some good target practice.” 

Judal shoved both guns into Hakuryuu’s cheap, timework holster, struggling to clip it on. “I’m gonna be a good shot, you’ll see! I can aim good with my ice, it’s not that different with a bullet! Are we ready to go yet, I’m getting antsy!”

Checking his pack a final time, Hakuryuu nodded. “We have food, camping supplies, bullets, miscellaneous. Looks like everything.” He shouldered his backpack, which was absurdly heavy. “I don’t really feel like saying any goodbyes. People come and go here all the time. If I ask, it’ll leave witnesses too, and it might take too long.” 

This was really happening, he thought with limited surprise as he closed the door to his cabin a final time. Hadn’t some part of him always known he would have to go back and make things right eventually? He didn’t really think the hatred would die off like a flower clipping stuck in a vase. He’d just lost track of it for a while, been lulled to complacency. With Judal by his side, he thought, again with no shock, he could probably do anything he wanted. 

Not to say that Judal was just a tool to him, either. If Judal thought that about himself, he was wrong. If Judal went away, Hakuryuu would miss him just as strongly as he missed his arm, in the weeks after he lost it. There was a tangible attachment between them, and as Hakuryuu took Judal’s hand, walking with him out of the valley that millennium-old glaciers had carved, he felt it pull tight like stitches connecting the edges of a ragged wound, making it whole again. 

END OF PART ONE


End file.
